


i'm either gone in an instant or here 'til the bitter end

by 0justlisten0



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Chris Argent/Peter Hale - Freeform, Gen, Hale fire happened, I'm so sorry, Implied Chris Argent/Peter Hale - Freeform, Mentioned Kate Argent, Sadface, but not the canonical version, chris is a hit man, don't look too closely at the details, gerard is an asshole, kate is insane, literally at the very end, peter is his intended victim, the petopher is really just implied at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0justlisten0/pseuds/0justlisten0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Why are you so eager to die?”</i> </p><p>  <i>The kid closes his eyes, long lashes fluttering softly before settling against the translucent skin beneath his eyes. He inhales softly, breath shuddering out of him on the exhale. “I’m so tired,” he mumbles, voice cracking. He clears his throat gruffly, shaking his head at himself, and looks Chris in the eyes again. “Everyone else is dead. There’s no one left. What’s the point anymore?”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm either gone in an instant or here 'til the bitter end

**Author's Note:**

> "Chris is a hit man ordered to kill Peter. He changes his mind."
> 
> Title is from "Death Valley" by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> Idk. It's weird. Don't look too closely at things. And I tried to put actual Petopher here, but they just wanted to be implied, so fuck me.
> 
> Also, I made a [shiny](http://sugarspiceandpurespite.tumblr.com/) new tumblr.

It’s a simple job, one Chris has done innumerable times before: locate the target; get in; eliminate target; stage scene; get out; collect. He prides himself on his efficiency, on his professionalism – never once has he considered not carrying out his orders like the good soldier his father trained him to be.

 

“It’s unclear how, but he managed to escape her; Kate is dead. You’re going to avenge her.”

 

There’s pain as he hears about Katie’s death – as much as his sister and he had competed in their profession, he still loved her above all, more even than he had their mother before her death. The news is delivered in a callous, uncaring way, Gerard staring Chris down as he clenches his jaw. “Retaliation won’t bring her back,” he grits out, eyes downcast.

 

“Retaliation,” Gerard sneers, “is the only way these bastards are going to learn that the Argents are not to be tested!” He swipes a hand through the air, one grey eyebrow lifting imperiously. “Would you prefer the boy gloats about his victory over Kate, lets everyone know that we allowed him a pass after killing one of our own?” Chris gives a sharp shake of his head. “Good,” Gerard breathes. He turns, shuffling a few files around before tossing a small jump drive at Chris; years of rigorous training allow him to snatch it easily from the air. “The information is on that. See that you don’t waste it.”

 

*

 

Peter Hale is little more than a frightened child, barely twenty-two to Chris’ thirty, the false bravado he oozes overshadowed by the perpetual looks over his shoulder.

 

Chris can’t understand how this child, this _boy_ , managed any sort of useful defense against his sister – his sister, who had been trained in close combat fighting from the time she was eleven, even younger than Chris – but fear of dying, he ponders, is a powerful incentive to fight tooth and nail for one’s own life.

 

A shame really, Chris thinks later, that he’ll be dead within the month.

 

(He ignores the small part of his mind questioning why someone would have put a hit on the kid, why his sister would have gone after him in the first place.)

 

*

 

The kid is smart, Chris realizes. He varies the paths he takes to the grungy motel room he is staying in, pays for all his purchases in cash, careful to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to himself, even with his exceptional looks.

 

He’s trying so hard, Chris muses, but it will all be for nothing.

 

He thinks he’ll try to make the kid’s death painless.

 

*

 

Chris slides from behind the door, slamming it shut and flicking the light on as he shoves the kid forward, forcing him to lose his footing and fall to the floor. Hurriedly, the boy turns over, hands bracing himself against the cheap carpet as he stares up at Chris, eyes wide with surprise and a dash of fear, a slim ring of brilliant sky-blue framing dark pupils.

 

A moment passes between them, heavy panting breaths from the slight figure lying vulnerably at his feet the only sounds floating through the air until-

 

“If you’re going to kill me…” A smooth voice cuts through the air, only the slightest tremor belying the calm he tries to inject in his tone. “If you’re going to do it, could you hurry up and get it over with? Unless you’re here for something else, which I doubt, considering that.” He nods to the gun, held loosely in Chris’ left hand, as he shifts to a more upright position.

 

Chris is tempted to ignore him, simply carry out his orders and be done with it, vengeance attained, and walk away, but then-

 

“Awfully mouthy for someone with a gun pointed at them,” he says, lifting the semi-automatic weapon to point it directly between the boy’s eyes. He nearly lets that be the end of it, but he can’t stop the next question from slipping out. “Why are you so eager to die?”

 

The kid closes his eyes, long lashes fluttering softly before settling against the translucent skin beneath his eyes. He inhales softly, breath shuddering out of him on the exhale. “I’m so tired,” he mumbles, voice cracking. He clears his throat gruffly, shaking his head at himself, and looks Chris in the eyes again. “Everyone else is dead. There’s no one left. What’s the point anymore?”

 

Chris frowns, eyes darkening as he kneels down and presses the metal of the gun into the boy’s cheek, soft flesh giving way to steel. “That’s all?” he inquires flatly, a bit of anger rising up inside of him. “You aren't going to beg for your life?” He shoves the gun under the kid’s chin, tilting his head back at a likely painful angle. “No pleas for me to forgive you for murdering my sister?”

 

Blue eyes flare wide at that, thinly-veiled fury hidden in them as the boy spits out, “Your _sister_ murdered my entire family! She locked them in our house and burned them alive! She just stood there and watched while _my_ sister and my nieces and nephews and my brother-in-law all screamed in pain, cried for help!” His breaths are shallow, anger and the threat of tears overtaking him. “And do you know what she did while they were dying?” He blinks hard, twin trails of shining tears falling down his cheeks. “She _laughed_.” His voice shatters on the last word, a choked sound coming from the kid’s throat as he pulls his head back enough to have the muzzle of the gun pressing against his forehead. “And I attacked her and the gun she had went off and then she was dead too and I ran away, like I’ve been doing for _weeks_ now. So just fucking do it already.” He whimpers out another soft, “I’m just so fucking tired.”

 

Chris swallows hard after Peter’s speech is complete. What if he was telling the truth? Chris allows himself to think on the one thought that has been plaguing him the entire three weeks since Kate’s death. “Why would she do that? Attack your family for no reason? You must be aware of what my family does.” Here, Chris shifts the gun, laying it against the line of the younger’s jaw. “Considering you told me to kill you, I’m assuming you do. There would have been a contract out on your family, on all of you. Who did your family piss off?”

 

Peter sneers, disdain evident in his voice as he replies, “My sister was the lead investigator for a unit of Organized Crime. She’d been amassing evidence on multiple murders over the years and she had finally gathered enough to bring it all to a judge – who was under the payroll of a geriatric asshole and tipped him off. Three guesses and no prize for guessing what family it all led back to.”

 

Chris jerks slightly and stands upright abruptly. _Goddammit!_ He lifts a hand, running it over the top of his shorn hair as he thinks quickly. _Hale. _Why hadn’t he connected the name sooner? Talia Hale had been a head-figure of the police force as a lieutenant for years before she dropped off the reservation. He nearly laughs at himself as more things become clearer, as he realizes why there was no additional information about the kid’s relatives, friends, _anything_. Gerard knew he wouldn’t question him outright about it, that Chris would simply carry on and execute the orders he was given, just as he always had.__

__

__He had always been the good soldier, the sheep his father had always counted on to never disobey him._ _

__

__He halts, staring down at the boy - _Peter_ \- as he stares right back with those blue eyes – still bright from tears and so _pretty_ , Chris realizes. He stows his gun back underneath his leather jacket, hiding it from view, and slowly kneels back down._ _

__

__Peter watches him warily, confusion evident. Deliberately, Chris raises his hand in full-view of Peter and gradually moves it until it slips under the curve of the paler male’s jaw. He feels more than hears the younger’s breath hitch at the move._ _

__

__“Will you just get on with it?” Peter chokes. “Stop playing with me! Just kill me already!”_ _

__

__Chris shakes his head. “I’m not going to kill you,” he says evenly. “I’m leaving.” He tilts Peter’s head back again, this time with a gentle push of his palm as his thumb brushes softly over a luscious lower lip. “And I’m taking you with me.”_ _


End file.
